Disclaimer: This story contains sexual content of a homosexual nature between consenting teenagers. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you are under legal age, offended, or otherwise do not wish to view material of a frank and sexual nature do not read this story.

Author's Note: Thank you to all those who have written to me. I'm glad that you are enjoying this story as much as I am. Your constructive criticism is what I focus my progression on. Thank you again. This is a work of fiction. Many characters were inspired by real people. I would gladly appreciate any feedback. This includes constructive criticisms. Please send to

What I liked about Max was the soft
complexion of his skin. His light hair made his skin look softer somehow. It
was probably the expensive lotion that he used that gave it that glow. The
glitter on his back and chest made him look ethereal. His dilated green eyes
also helped to mellow the soft and tangent flesh that covered his body. One
flutter of an eyelash and he was a child again, caught with his hand in a cookie
jar. A playful twinkle twitched itself on the fullness of his neck. The subtle
movement of his lush lips inspired his body to move in the rhythm of his
giggle. He covered his mouth in an attempt to suppress it. His soft skin
shudders.

A greasy look of satisfaction
overwhelmed the man as he groped his cock towards Max's chin. Still on his
knees, Max continued to giggle.

"Actually, his parents are here.
They found out what he's been up to and I think it's in your best interest to
hide."

As quickly as I could think, I
grabbed Max by the arm and dragged him out of the room. There was a split
second of resistance that I felt from him, but it faded as clumsily as his
laughter. It was clear to me now, from the beads of sweat that formed on his
brow, that Max was under an influence. The man stood in his own state of
confusion, but it at least gave me enough time to disappear into the herd of
gyrating human bodies. My skin, arms, hands and legs brushed against theirs. I
pulled Max with me, untangling him from the desperate grasps of intoxication.
His bleach blond hair illuminated the dance floor, drenched in it like a diamond
caught amongst the rough terrain of petty thoughts. I placed his arm around my
shoulder and searched for an exit. Everything around us was a blur. Glow
sticks, boys with make-up, shirtless, sweating, and in constant motion.

Then there was Kari. His strong
face hid in the shadows, even as he approached us. A militaristic march was a
good way of describing the way he walked. It was stiff, balanced and never
wavering. Like a soldier walking through a field of explosive and dangerous
mines. Dark eyes focused so clearly on us that it could cut through us like a
sharp blade on a bar of soap. They could see right through you and tell you
whether or not you were innocent or guilty, like a judge and jury. I couldn't
help but wonder what he and Snowy were talking about earlier today. Hushed
words and cold stares were all I could read from this stranger. I don't even
remember seeing him in the halls of the school.

Max trembled. He was pale now, a
mere ghost of the fierceness he used to be. An instant wrinkled brow and then
he was lost again in his childishness. Without a word, Kari placed Max's other
arm over his shoulder and together we kept his balance. He led us through a set
of stairs. I wasn't paying attention anymore. The music was too loud and the
lights were too blinding. All that I could see were shadows and figures,
dancing, twirling and randomly swaying. Step by tedious step. It wasn't
difficult and it wasn't as slow as it played in my mind. Max was sweating
profusely. Saliva seeped through the side of his mouth. Or was that the
release men get after the long awaited tension of pleasure? We got him into a
dressing room.

"In here."

There were several people there, and
all of them were in the midst of changing or getting out of a form of clothing.
Kari helped Max onto an old couch. He didn't even try to get up.

"He'll be fine in an hour."

Kari grabbed a bottle of water from
the small fridge beside the couch.

"Shouldn't we take him to a
hospital?"

He handed me a paper towel and I
wiped the sweat and drool from Max's face.

"Are you fucking crazy? If he goes
to the hospital questions will be asked and none of us are prepared to answer
any of them. He's just having a bad reaction. I've seen this hundreds of times
before. He'll be fine in an hour."

That was probably the coldest thing
I've ever heard, but at least propriety got the better of him.

"You can call someone to pick him
up."

He stood to reach deep into the
pocket of his pants. After handing me an old cell phone he sat back on the
couch beside Max and placed a cold wet face cloth over his forehead. I had to
think quickly. Instinctively, my thumb dialed a distinct phone number. The
conversation was short and the request was accepted, leaving me with a look of
shame as I ultimately admitted where I was.

"So is someone coming?"

I placed his cell phone on the palm
of his open hand.

"Yeah."

He shifted his legs to place the
electronic device back to where it came from.

"Good. My shift is over. I can
stay with you till whoever gets their ass over here."

My fingers reached to scratch the
back of my neck.

"Thank you, Kari."

"No problem. My original plan for
tonight was to soak myself silly in alcohol, but that can wait till later."

He said this while looking over at
Max. He placed a hand over the wet cloth, his fingers disappearing in the
bleach blond strands. Max groaned with his eyes closed.

"I'm sorry."

The apology was all I could offer.
Kari held a bottle of water by the lips of the seemingly unconscious boy. Max's
eyes were still closed but he took a few gulps.

"Don't be. At least you care."

A jolt of memory reminded me of why
I was here. A series of questions began formulating in my brain.

"Kari, what exactly is wrong with
Max?"

He almost let out a laugh.

"What do you think is wrong
with him? Depressed rich boy decides to dig himself into a hole just so he
could feel something, anything, besides the emptiness that engulfs his
soul. I know, irony not withstanding. The difference between me and this
Children of the Damn rip-off is that I didn't get to Montega's using my
daddy's bank account."

That was not the answer that my
question was intending to look for. However, the toll of it had taken me by
surprise.

"You got to the school by
scholarship, too?"

He smiled, "Did you think you were
the only one? There are a few of us. And yes, I got to the school by getting
referred and also taking an exam."

Excitement raced in my blood.
Imagine being in a strange new world away from home and finding someone in your
position. And as much as I wanted to talk about it, I knew that there was a
more pressing matter at hand.

"I guess we have more in common than
I thought. But that wasn't what I meant. What did Max take to get himself like
this?"

Kari stood up and reached into his
pocket. I thought he would pull out his cell phone again.

"He took these."

Instead he pulled out a Ziploc
sandwich bag. A variety of tablets and pills in different shapes and colors
dangled behind the clear plastic.

"I know what you're thinking,
Ethan. But its easy money and it gets me through school."

He put the Ziploc sandwich bag back
inside his pocket and stared into space. If I followed his eyes they would be
staring directly ahead of him towards the back of the dressing room. The boys
there paid no attention to us as they left and came, dressed and changed. `Yes'
was his only response. I decided not to question about the matter any further.
Kari's eyes drifted back to Max. We were quiet for five minutes.

"This is a nice place," I finally
said in hopes of breaking the morbid silence.

He was sitting again.

"It is. I don't know who came up
with the idea. I always thought it was Cody, you know, the Montega graduate
that stayed behind to expand his mother's casinos in Honolulu. But I think it
was some other people in his class. I heard that they wanted a place for gay
teens to meet up so they decided to build their own club. The focus changed
when older people started coming and the group needed them to fund this place."

I sat by Max's feet.

"They didn't pay it with their own
cash?"

"Are you kidding me? Their parents
would combust if they knew their kids were spending their money on a
place like this."

He flipped the face cloth.

"How exactly did they fund it?"

Kari stayed quiet. It was all
starting to make sense now. The dancers, boys like Max, men like the guy Max
was servicing, and even the Ziploc sandwich bag were all part of some business
scheme to keep this place going. It also dawned on me that Kari wasn't the only
one.

"Ok. I think I get it now. But can
I ask you one last question before we drag Max out to where I'm supposed to meet
our ride home?"

He laughed, "This quasi interview
has been the only conversation we've had all night. But go for it anyway."

"Has Kyle ever been here?"

His eyebrow arched as if it caught
wind of something snide and suspicious.

"Are you talking about the
Pennington kid that was pushed off his balcony a while back?"

I nodded.

"Why would you ask if he's been here
before? What's it to you?"

Thinking quickly was something that
became more innate since I began working at the Dessert Bar.

"The holidays are coming up now and
the student government is trying to make a special commemoration for the school
Christmas special. I know it's more than a month away but I wanted to research
as much as I could about Kyle because I'm in charge of writing Timmy's speech.
I'm not going to say anything about this place but I just wanted to figure out
who Kyle knew and met before he died."

Kari nodded.

"The Gold Members are still
exploiting that poor kid's death, huh? Well, he did come here two weeks before
his body was bagged. I was bouncer that night and I was shocked as hell to find
him here. Just like you, he'd always been hanging around those white trash you
call your friends."

"Did you sell him any of that
stuff?"

He glanced at Max.

"I only sell what people ask."

* * *

We waited by the harbor for Naomi's
car. Max had his arm around my neck. Kari had carried him on his back and left
to go back into the warehouse. His time was wasted enough tonight and he needed
a special nightcap before his lights were completely out. We were at a good
distance away from Urges. I could still hear the pounding melodies, feel
the crowded heat, smell the sweating bodies, and taste the salty atmosphere. It
left a stench in my clothes. I suddenly felt self-conscious. Like a shame
exposed by an open fly. Deep within, I could feel the eyes again, watching and
waiting, and always full of hunger. We always fool ourselves into thinking that
we're doing the right thing. But my father told me long ago that he'd walked
the road to hell in which the best of intentions were paved on. I remember
being left utterly confused, thinking that it had nothing to do with making the
school basketball team. He was helping me train for the tryouts. After all
these years, I was beginning to understand a single layer of what he was trying
to teach me.

Max stood leaning against me. He
groaned whenever a car passed us. We waited fifteen minutes before Naomi's
headlights pierced our eyes. She wasn't driving of course. The area was
unfamiliar to her. She had always stayed closer to the city with work and her
daughter always taking up her time to explore. Mistakes can often do that to
you. But they can also give you something that makes you happy. I should have
anticipated his weary and disappointed look. He often gave me the same look
every time I made a mistake. I imagined the sort of things he would say
to me. It played in my head like a piece of an aria, maybe something like
Orfeo. The vehicle approached and Max and I entered it. He stumbled to get
in, sat, and leaned his bleach blond head against the opposite window. I had to
remind him to use his seatbelt. It was warmer inside than out, and the
environment was completely different from the warehouse. It was quiet. Naomi
sat in the passenger seat. She smiled kindly and checked to make sure that Max
was seated properly. Her exotic eyes lingered toward mine and she placed her
hand on my knee with the full intention of assurance. And after a moment she
had returned to her quiet place by the passenger seat, admiring the boats that
passed us by. It made me think of Pierre and his yacht on the second night I
came to the island. I had no idea what kind of world I'd be drawn into.

"Interesting night?"

He had finally said something. I
could only see his deep blue eyes through the rearview mirror. They were
focused on the road before him, clear as glass.

"Very," I replied with
unintended sarcasm.

Max groaned beside me. Naomi stayed
quiet.

"Ettie, you don't have to tell me.
But I still want you to explain."

His voice was firm. It was
something he learned to mimic a long time ago.

"I was just curious, Lee."

My answer was met by a sigh. I
looked out the window to see the restaurant that was frequently visited by the
Gold Members. My thoughts floated towards football and other things.

"What's going on with you? Secret
meetings with Sophie, joining student government under someone full of elitist
crap, hanging out at raves with drug addicted nymphomaniacs, and letting that
jerk treat you like dirt, even after the way he touches you... This isn't you."

He said all this with a hint of
desperation in the tone of his voice. It strained the chords in my throat. I
couldn't say a word to him.

Naomi turned her head to face him,
giving him the same reassuring hand-on-lap she gave me earlier, "We've both been
where Ethan is before. He's a teen, Liam. When are you going to let him be
one?"

A smart woman can do that. She can
take the world in front of your eyes, spin it and make it look different some
how. It was Lee's turn to stay quiet.

His girlfriend tried to break the
silence, "Anyway Ethan, how was that Halloween party that took you several weeks
to plan?"

"It didn't go according to what we
had in mind but I guess it turned out for the best. How's Alexis?"

"Like every girl her age, full of
never ending questions and an imaginary friend. She named her Kimi.
Apparently, she's pink and eats only candy."

She chuckled. I noticed that when
Naomi mentioned her daughter's name, the tension between Lee and I was lifted,
even only a little. The drive was quiet. But we had eventually gotten to the
school.

The car stopped and before we got
out Lee said, "I know I've been riding you hard all these years, and before
anyone points out sexual connotations, I just want you to know that it's because
I want what's best for you. I keep forgetting that you're not a twelve-year-old
kid anymore, and that you can make your own decisions. But I'm still going to
have my opinions, and I am still your legal guardian."

Maybe it was rude, but I really
didn't have anything to say, so I simply nodded and helped Max out of the car.
Naomi's hand was still on Lee's lap. I said goodbye to both of them and that
I'd call later to tell them how Max was doing. Right now he was seeing things
in the dark. I waved to the leaving car. The school's security guards greeted
us by the gate. They told us how late it was and I came up with some excuse
that they accepted with a grain of salt. The larger one asked what was wrong
with my friend. I told them he wasn't feeling well. They led us to the main
entrance of the school and told us to be quiet as we headed to our dorms. I
accompanied Max to his. He was leaning on me, slowly regaining his strength.
The hallucinations were becoming less and less. Reality was always harsher.
His roommates were already in bed, tucked away in the security of slumber.
Silver bangs rested by his brow. Sleep wasn't what he wanted. Not yet,
anyway. We stayed in his balcony, sitting on lawn chairs. This was the side
that did not have the ocean view. But we could still see the courtyard, the
garden and the large gazebo. It was established by the gold members that they
wanted to use the courtyard for the Thanksgiving picnic feast. It looked nice.
There was even a small pond.

"You don't have to stay."

Max sat back on his lawn chair, arms
folded.

"I don't think I'd be able to sleep
either. Besides, I could use the company."

He scratched his knee. His fingers
were still shaking.

"Everything is fuzzy. My head's
still banging with noise."

My eyes were getting heavy, like a
weight was attached to the eyelids.

"Have you done this sort of thing
before?"

He gave me a short glaring stare.

"Yes. But I can never get used to
it. It makes it easier though, this empty feeling inside of me. Sucks you dry,
so you crave for more and sooner or later you're throwing up in the bathtub
cursing the day you were born. `Poor little rich kid', is that what Kari called
me? I don't remember. He was saying stuff to you."

I played with the bottom of my
shirt, rolling it up and down.

"He said things. I was just buying
some time."

"What were you doing there?"

A fly zoomed by my eyes. I tried
smacking it dead.

"Curious, I guess."

He started laughing uncontrollably.

"Sorry. It's just funny to think
about. And I guess curiosity goes hand in hand with being a virgin."

I looked away. He saw that.

"So you finally did it, huh? Did
he pop your cherry?"

A sigh left my mouth, "I don't know
if I'd use that term, but if you're saying what I think you're saying, then yes,
I finally did it."

"Good. He was a good choice. He's
good at what he does."

My cheeks heated. Something always
makes me forget about who he had been intimate with.

"So how long have you been going to
Urges?"

"Same week Kyle died. I needed to
get my mind off of everything. After that stupid trip to the jungle, things
began to look different to me. I was an idiot to think that Damien would care
about me."

My brow wrinkled. It was like I was
looking in the mirror and there was a blemish, full of color and ready to blow.

"You're not an idiot. How did you
end up under their employment list?"

He smiled sideways.

"The first night I came there, I
almost left immediately. There were a lot more `older' guys than I thought
there would be. I mean they guys were as old as our teachers and they were
perverted jerks that grab you everywhere when you're dancing. But then I saw
this dancer. His name is Adam, and he had nothing on but a thong. I think he's
half Middle-Eastern, but he was probably the sexiest looking thing I've ever
seen. He danced around a pole and would only do more if the older guys strapped
money on to him. And one by one I saw the other dancers. Some of them had
nicknames like Hot Smoothie and Skittles. When I got to know them I found out
it was because they shared the same name. All of them were hot as hell, and it
was like the entire club as at the heels of their feet. They were so in
control, of everyone, of everything. I wanted that. The control, I mean. I
wanted guys to want me. It sounds so selfish."

Listening intently was getting
harder as the minutes strolled by.

"How did you end up-"

"...Taking drugs? The public dances
didn't earn as much money as the private ones. Our bosses wanted us to those as
well. It was part of the requirement. The private ones also included extra
favors that were very pricey. It's hard to do those extra favors when the
person makes you feel uncomfortable. The drugs helped."

I nodded. Everything was beginning
to make sense now.

"Did you find what you were looking
for?" I asked him.

He gave me a puzzling look.

"What do you mean?"

"After everything you've done at
Urges, did it really relieve you from the stress that brought you there?"

His gaze was at the courtyard now.
We had this fountain in the center of it. The gazebo had a pathway that led to
it.

"Not really. No."

Emerald green eyes quivered with a
few blinks. I couldn't tell whether or not they were watery. They were still
gazing somewhere in the courtyard. Like he was trying to find something that
nobody knew was lost.

"There was this other guy there. He
wasn't in tonight, but he's one of the regulars. When he put on a show it was
like fireworks on the 4th of July. His stage name was Apollo, go
figure. He's also the oldest guy there. When you talk to him he says annoying
stuff like 90's pop culture references. But when he's on the floor in the
middle of the club, doing a performance, it just blows you away. Night after
night, he never tires, never gets boring, and always comes up with something
new. I get it now, after watching him while I was there. You could be a
complete loser during the day and be a star during the night. And when you're
dancing, you're just so connected to everyone. It's like you're in a
relationship, but without all the bull and obligation that comes with it. You
can still be liked, admired, and lusted for, without getting too close for any
of them to know you. When the lights go out, Apollo is the sexiest eye candy
around, but after the sun comes up he's the guy who's still stuck in the glory
of his high school days, back when everyone thought he was straight and they
wanted to be his best friend."

The sprinklers in the courtyard had
turned themselves on, spraying a mist of water of the green grass. It was
telling me that it was already early in the morning.

"Is that really what you want, to be
in control of the distance between you and the people who admire you?"

"I just want to be liked.
Does that make me a bad person?"

My body stood. I needed sleep.

"Urges isn't any regular
club. There's some illegal stuff happening there and you really don't want to
get caught up in that. I don't think there's any problem with wanting to be
liked or having fun dancing, but if it's cutting into your school and
friendships then there's something you have to deal with."

He nodded, staring into space.

"Are you heading to bed now?"

"Yeah, but not before I ask you one
last thing. I'm writing a memorial speech about Kyle and someone told me that
he'd been to Urges a week or two before he died. Do you know anyone
who's seen him there?"

He wrinkled his brow.

"I don't know why that would be
important but one of the Joshes was talking about it. I can't remember who. I
was probably drunk or high at the time."

"Joshes?"

"Remember those two dancers I
mentioned with the nicknames Hot Smoothie and Skittles? One of them was talking
about it. It was most likely Skittles. That guy has a gossip problem. He goes
to our school too. Anyway, he said Kyle went there to meet up with some guy.
Skits hadn't seen the other guy, but he was telling us how excited Kyle was. He
then made fun of me and said that's exactly how I got every time I was around
Damien. Jackass. Kyle didn't say much about this guy he was supposed to meet.
But Skits thought it might have been someone in the school."

After I left Max's room, I thought
carefully of the information he and Kari had given me. Traces of LSD were found
in Kyle's body. The only place where students could get their hands on the
stuff was the warehouse where Max had been hiding every night for the last
couple of months since the trip to the jungle. Kari sells the drugs to make
money. But Kari hadn't mentioned that he had sold any to Kyle. Performers like
Max used the drug while they were... performing. Kyle wasn't a performer of any
sort. But he was at urges and had been there to go on a date. Urges
was a strange place to go on a date. Though, people always do strange things
when they think they've fallen for someone. But I guess people do stranger
things when your fall is broken or rejected.

<Page
Break>

I stared at the empty desk and gazed
at the empty chair. The bell would ring soon. I sighed. Mr. Buchanan was
already beginning to write something on the board. Joe and Bobby were trying to
hold in their laughs. And I was suffering from a slight migraine. Lack of
sleep can do that to you.

My stomach grumbled. Food didn't
mix well inside my tummy when I was tired. A string of memories flowed in my
mind's eye. Back when I small my mother would always cook a special chicken
soup whenever my stomach had a weird ache. If I didn't finish it then she would
save it for my father. There was an inside joke about that special soup. We
never got a chance to hear the story.

"I made it!" Max squealed as he
entered the classroom.

"And I'm on time too."

Mr. Buchanan beamed, "Long time no
see, Max. I thought you had ceased to exist."

Max laughed along with the class.

"Am I failing?"

Mr. Buchanan turned back to the
chalkboard.

"No. But you aren't exactly passing
either."

Max still stood by the doorway.

"I promise to do all the assignments
I've missed and some extra ones if you allow me."

Our teacher was taking his time to
write out each letter on the blackboard.

"You have until Friday. Talk to me
after class."

He said this while facing the
chalkboard. But we could all tell that he was smiling and trying to hide it.
Max walked over to his seat.

He passed me by and said, "Don't
worry. He'll be here."

I smiled too and shook my head.

"I'm glad you're back, Max."

He took his seat and opened his
notebook.

"Thanks, Ethan. I'm glad I'm back
too."

An open window and a board full of
chalked words. That was a different world than the lights of song and dance
that Max was now accustomed to. When you're on an island, resting against the
drop of infinite ocean, the paradise can overwhelm you. Here in Oahu, set apart
from the rusty daydream of a blue collar social outcast, lies the foundation of
what most people attempt to enchant themselves with. Maybe that's why dancers
dance the way they do. Because disillusionment can be the hardest thing an
honest person can do. It can be even harder when you believe your living in
paradise.

The bell had rung. He was late
again. I hadn't talked to him much since that rainy Halloween night. I tried
to tell myself that he'd been busy, and that I'd been busy too. Deep down I
knew he was trying to avoid me again. It almost made me laugh. He had invited
me over later this week. I wonder if he was excited about meeting again as I
was. Maybe he hated me for my weakness. He probably makes fun of me behind my
back. I don't know why, but whatever feeling he was making me feel, it made me
want to disappear. I didn't want to be wrong. But if I were to be truthful,
then I would say that whatever it was he made feel it was very insecure, like a
noose being tied around my neck, the rope squeezing the veins till they popped.
Maybe if my heart pounded hard enough, it would implode and I wouldn't have to
worry whether or not he even cared. Lee was right. My brother was right. I
had changed. Funny how a person can make you want to fly and disappear at the
same time. The second one seemed easier to do. The first one looked tricky,
like a dance to a never ending song.